


Pick up the pieces and build a legohouse

by givemelove7



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 22:32:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3305768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givemelove7/pseuds/givemelove7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night, two injuries, four hearts.<br/>Set after Real Madrid - Sevilla match.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pick up the pieces and build a legohouse

8'. From his usual place at the goalpost, Iker watched as Sergio fell to the ground, holding his hamstring. He saw the pain cloud his feautures, a grimace on his face where a grin would normally be. Iker watched him slowly limp off the field. The captain was left alone, without his co-captain. The goalkeeper was left without his most trusted defender.  
25' Cristiano took his glance off the field for exactly one minute, to wish goodnight to Junior via phone. It felt so wrong, watching his teammates play while he watched from afar but that was the price for his burst of temper and he knew it was well deserved. When he looked back at the Santiago Bernabeu grass, he saw James make his way to the tunnel, his boot in hand, clearly in pain. Well shit.

After the game

I.

Midnight found Sergio lying on a huge leather couch that took a large portion of his living room. Iker was sitting on a chair next to him, flipping through tv channels, not stopping on any of them for more than 3 seconds. Exhaustion was radiating from him, his eyelids heavy, his mind clouded, his body begging for rest.  
„Go to sleep Iker.“  
„No.“  
„Go to sleep Iker.“  
„You first.“  
„I'm not tired.“  
„Neither am I.“  
„You're a horrible liar, Iker.“  
„I'm not leaving you. Do you remember what happened last time you got injured?“  
Sergio knew he would never remember that night, but as Marcelo, who found the story hilarious ( but then again, was there anything he didn't find hilarious), and an extremely furious Iker told him, they found him in a 24/7 taco bar near his home, in the middle of December, wearing a tanktop and national teams' shorts, pink hairbow in his hair and sunglasses on his face. His table was covered in food that could feed the whole Real Madrid team and he was eating and whistling some unrecognizable tune, completely oblivious to the looks he was getting from the rest oft he guests in the bar.  
Sergio cracked a smile at the memory of Iker, torn between relief that Sergio is alive and pissed. „That's different, I was on drugs for the pain then.“  
„Doesn't matter, I'm staying with you tonight.“, Iker yawned.  
„Come here“, Sergio said softly, his hand extended towards Iker. He scooted on the sofa, making room for Iker to lay in front of him. As soon as Iker's body hit the sofa, Sergio's arms sneaked around his middle, like they did a million times before. He pressed a soft kiss to Iker's neck, at his hairline and whispered „You are gonna be fine, capi. Atleti is going down, with or without me.“ Iker stopped wondering how can Sergio always read his mind a long time ago. At first it made him feel uneasy, all of his secrets, thoughts he would never say out loud – it all seemed to be in plain sight for Sergio since the very first day.  
„Thank you Nene.“ was all he could say. One day he would find the right words to explain to Sergio just how much his constant presence in Iker's life for the past 10 years meant to Iker. One day.

II.

Broken bone. Surgery. Months of recovery. He heard the doctors speaking to him but all those words meant little to James in his drugged state. What he did understand was that the news weren't good from the look on Cristiano's face and the whining sound he produced. Cristiano, who refused to leave James' side. Cristiano, who caressed his hair and kept whispering „I'm sorry“ into James' ear, as if he was to blame for anything. Cristiano, who was currently sitting on a chair next to James' hospital bed.  
„You know you don't have to stay.“  
„I know.“ He didn't move an inch.  
„It's your birthday in 10 minutes.“  
„I know.“  
„Big 30.“  
„Oh shut up.“ Cristiano barked.  
„Feeling old, grampa?“ James teased, his eyebrow lifted and a grin splitting his face. Cristiano threw a pillow on him in response.  
„Cris? Did your life turn out to be as you wished for when you were 20?“  
„Hmmm. Maybe. Kinda. Mostly.“ James stayed silent.  
„I did expect to be a great football player. I did wish to make my mother proud. I was hoping to be a father. But what I promised to myself was that by the time I turn 30, I will be madly in love with someone. Be there for someone. Have someone be there for me. Share the good and the bad.“  
James still hasn't said a word.  
„What I didn't expect, however, is that I will find that someone and he will be oblivious to it.“  
„He?“  
„Yeah.“  
„Cris?“ James said quietly. „Come here.“  
Cristiano got up and walked towards James, still stuck deep in his thoughts. James cupped his face with both of his hands, fingers going through his hair. Their eyes met for a brief second before Cristiano's eyes focused on James' lips. It was enough of a confirmation for James. He captured Cristiano's lips with his own, feeling more than hearing Cristiano sighing into the kiss. They pulled apart after a few seconds.  
„Cris?“  
„Hmm?“  
„Happy birthday.“


End file.
